Snap
A cold snap the last week of February wakes our drive to snow.
Fallow earth shows through the white cold, black here, red, or
dark brown, throwing up the mountain creases laced. The car races
salty asphalt both ways, dirt-and-grit patches of white shoulder
holding boles of almonds that lift twisting cut-off branches
into delicate petals, here pink, there cold white. The full moon’s porcelain light
stings the yellow mimosa flowers against their blue-green leaves.
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